


I'm no good for you.

by PhakeFysics



Series: Fallen Hero - Abyss/Anton [9]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 17:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20295178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhakeFysics/pseuds/PhakeFysics





	I'm no good for you.

It was nice being looked at, smiled at, given a rake with the eyes. Your puppet, Lazarus was young, handsome and in his prime. His golden blond hair loosely combed back, eyes shimmering and bright and blue like the sky. 

He was a handsome man anyone could only dream of. And sometimes you just slipped into him and pretend to be normal. Lazarus was a good boy. Always smiling, always down to earth; happy, content. Lazarus helped you forget everything and live carefree.

These days you didn’t even sleep. Anytime you stopped playing with Abyss’ form, or anytime you didn’t have to pretend to be Sidestep, you retreated into Lazarus. Sure this meant less mental energy and running yourself ragged… but you had coffee for that. Besides, you had to keep Lazarus in shape and healthy. He needed to be out in the sun, smiling and letting the world see him. 

Anton didn’t need any of that.

Unfortunately, you had promised another training day with Daniel, and you couldn’t cancel… not again. You had been cancelling, ignoring, or just plain hanging up on Ortega, Daniel, or anyone that called. 

You get Lazarus to bed and reluctantly let go. You’re hit with a stinging throb in your wrists and a stiffness in your back and neck. Blearily you open your eyes and find yourself on the floor of your bathroom again. Oh… musta been another difficult night, huh?

You’re used to your brief blackouts, waking up and coming out of… whatever, and finding yourself injured and sore. You sit back on your heels and look around the bathroom. The mirror was removed ages ago, so you can stand up at the sink without having to avoid the obvious.

You rustle around in a drawer and find a can of dry shampoo, applying it liberally before washing your face and forcing yourself to brush your teeth. It exhausted you, but you had to be presentable. You bandaged your wrists tightly, knowing you had to double up for sparring with Daniel. 

He was getting better, you had to admit. He kept his head down to earth and less in the clouds. He still hovered everywhere, but part of you was proud… too proud.

After getting as clean as possible without physically getting into the shower, you meander to your room and get out of your tattered ‘self destruction’ clothes, tossing them carelessly on the floor. Your body aches from the floor as well as running around as Abyss for the past several days. All the close calls… the deals. 

How could you be so stupid, so careless. Numbly, you get into your workout clothes - black sweats and a long sleeve, high collared dri fit that admittedly contoured to your body too much, exposing your entire shape, but it was all you could find. It’s why you liked being Abyss; no one could tell where shadow began and Abyss ended, or vise versa. 

You unplug your phone from the charger and try to text Daniel, despite the exhaustion it brings you. But you’re already dressed… fuck it. It’s almost instant, the reply. He was worried you’d cancel again, asking if you were feeling better.

Oh, that’s right… that was your excuse… a flu. Texting that you were raring to go, you added a ton of emojis to fake control, fake confidence. You felt nothing. You wanted to sink back into the tub and sleep. Your plans to manipulate and corrupt Daniel, and frankly, all the Rangers has been slipping through the cracks lately. You can’t remember why… fuck, you can’t even remember your own name sometimes.

Heaving a sigh, you grab your duffel bag and head out. 

-

Herald meets you for coffee, before training, knowing he has to bribe you and get you fueled up for training. It seems he could tell that you needed it more and more. It was around 3 am, the two of you agreeing that early morning sparring was best - no heat, no audience.

You trudge there on foot, hands in your pockets, staring down. You admit that after getting into shape, the small belly you had gotten was gone now. Then again, you barely ate… so that probably factored in as well. You couldn’t really see ribs or feel each vertebrae of your spine, so you figured you were in good enough shape. Enough to run a muck and dodge other Villains.

Daniel already has the table, your coffee already waiting, you toss your duffel bag into the booth seat unceremoniously and plop down. The blast of sunshine and happiness hits you, making your head hurt as Daniel notices you, perking up. He contains his sudden burst of happiness, seeming to be getting better at his walls. But he was still too easy to read.

“Hey Anton! I’m glad you’re feeling better…” his smile diminishes as he sips his coffee, looking at you. 

You force a trained smile, making it reach your eyes. It took every ounce of energy you had. “Hey Daniel, thanks for checking up on me. Ready to get your ass kicked?” you force the cool, positive tone out. You’re so tired… everything hurts.

Daniel beams that brilliant smile at you and you force yourself to keep from sighing. You let him lead the conversation, listening to him update you on things, letting him tell funny stories, watching him smile, hearing him laugh. It makes your mood sink lower than it was already. You force yourself to drink your coffee. You don’t want coffee anymore…

-

This time, you’ve convinced Daniel to take the elevator, then the last few flights up to the roof. He hesitates, but agrees when you mention something about it being a good cardio warm up, jogging the last few flights to the roof. 

The wind whips your braided hair around, tussling Daniel’s hair more than it already was, his bangs flying in his face. You smile, thinking it cute. The thought makes you pause, not liking the idleness of it at all. 

After a few more warm ups, the two of you are reviewing moves, blocking and parrying. You’re forcing energy into your body where there is none, and you feel your mind go stale, your body sluggish. You’re… so… tired…

You weakly throw a punch, but Daniel grabs your wrist, harder than he probably meant to and you hiss in pain, crumbling to your knees. He immediately lets go, lowering to your level, eyes wide and brimming with concern, “Oh god - Anton, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to grab you so hard. Are you alright?”

You can’t hear him, the pain ripping up your arm has your ears ringing and you just slump there. You barely realize Daniel moving to gently pull up your sleeve just enough to see the bandages. You finally come to, realizing he’s looking at you with concern.

“Oh I… I burned myself on the stove,” you try, forcing a chuckle from your throat. He smiles, “Oh I have some Neosporin in my bag! Just in case you scrape me against the roof too much,” he jokes, getting up and moving to the both of your bags’. 

“Daniel, I already applied some anti-burn medication to it. It’s fine-” you stop, realizing the gauze is red, blood soaking a spot no bigger than a dime. 

He comes over, noticing the blood, eyes going wide as he reaches for your arm again. You’re too weak to resist physically, “Daniel, really it’s nothing,” you press, the anxiety rising in your chest.

“No, we need to tend to this Anton, we should get you to a hospital-”

“NO HOSPITAL!” You yell, louder than you should have and he flinches, watching you like a puppy you just kicked across the room.

You stare at him, unable to hide your tried and apologetic expression, “Sorry I just...no. No hospitals,” you mutter, looking down at the space of roof between the two of you.

Before you can protest, he’s unwrapping the bandage and you go to protest as he peels off the coarse material, ripping open the cuts again, forcing a hiss out of you instead.

At first he stares, and you’re waiting… waiting for him to lecture you, chastise you. Look at you hurt and treat you like broken china, just like Ortega would do. But he doesn’t. He just gently cleans the cuts, his touch warm and gentle and you feel the tears brimming at the edges of your vision. You look down, trying to steel your expression, but you can’t. You feel like the next breeze would cause you to shatter into fine particles of dust.

Daniel doesn’t say anything, his expression calm as he near lovingly tends to the wounds you didn’t bother to pay attention to - just slap on some bandages and go. Daniel patiently wraps the bandage, firm but not too tight as you sniff, forcing the tears back. 

Gently, he takes your other hand, unsurprisingly, finding another bandage, and more fresh wounds. You keep yourself far away from his mind. You can’t bare to know what he’s thinking. Nothing but judgement. Contempt. Disgust.

Finally, you force yourself to look up, expression empty as you stare blankly at Danny tenderly cleaning your wounds. “Why aren’t you yelling?” you ask hoarsely, voice cracking and tired.

“Why should I? I knew you weren’t sick… well… not with the flu,” he trails off, his voice warm and gentle. The voice you use when you want to coax a scared, wild animal from under the dumpster, offering kindness.

“I don’t get it… usually by now, people are like ‘ew get help’, ‘what’s wrong with you’?” you croak, and Daniel just shrugs, applying the Neosporin. “Because wondering what’s wrong isn’t my business, but it doesn’t mean I can’t care. I’ve hung out with you long enough, and gleaned enough from Ortega that… you’re hurting inside. Most people play video games, or read, or eat food to cope. This is how you cope. I can’t really say I condone it, but you’re not fragile so much as… you’re skittish and anxious. Bringing it up just makes you run. And I don't want you to run,” he shrugs idly, moving to wrap the clean edge of bandages around your wrist again.

You sniff tiredly, all your energy gone, “Are you going to tell Ortega?” You bite dryly, letting him hold your hand in his. The warmth lulled you and made your mind pleasantly numb. Thinking of nothing but just being in the moment, here, with Daniel.

Daniel snorts, “No. It’s not my business to tell anyone. But Anton? Just know that… I’m here for you, whenever you need anything. Please… Just try and promise me that instead of hurting yourself, you maybe text or call? We can go get coffee, or go to the park. Anything to keep you away from those thoughts,” He pleaded gently, now having both your hands in his.

You look down at them, feeling their softness and warmth, but also the incredible strength lying just beneath the surface. 

And for a brief moment, you don’t want him to let go.


End file.
